


Inconvenient Timing

by blewoutthestars



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom!Todd, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Pararibulitis (Dirk Gently), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, dghda beginner bang, top!Dirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 07:06:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10962198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blewoutthestars/pseuds/blewoutthestars
Summary: It occurs to Todd – as Dirk hastily closes the door behind them and shoves his face up against the crack in an ineffectual attempt to see through to the corridor beyond – that, compared to how some of their other cases have gone, “hiding in a closet” was one of the better possible outcomes of this investigation. Of course, the universe being what it is, it only takes about three and a half minutes for him todrasticallychange his mind.Not every pararibulitus attack is painful. But it's still not great to get one when you're trapped in a broom closet with your best friend.Art by gentledirklyon tumblr.Written for the DGHDA Beginner Bang 2017!





	Inconvenient Timing

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt: "Pararibulitis isn't ALWAYS painful. Sometimes, it's incredibly pleasurable. Todd's body becomes hypersensitive, he's itching with need, and he just happens to experience his first that-sort-of-attack whilst trapped in a confined space with Dirk."
> 
> Huge thanks to gentledirkly for the amazing art!

 

It occurs to Todd – as Dirk hastily closes the door behind them and shoves his face up against the crack in an ineffectual attempt to see through to the corridor beyond – that, compared to how some of their other cases have gone, “hiding in a closet” was one of the better possible outcomes of this investigation. Of course, the universe being what it is, it only takes about three and a half minutes for him to _drastically_ change his mind.

Until now this has been a relatively straightforward case. By their standards, anyway. The agency had only been up and running for five months and, whilst no one had actually 'hired' them per se, they'd still managed to end up on all manner of wild goose chases that Todd could barely follow. Then last week there had been a neat little lilac envelope in with their mail – usually mostly comprised of bills – which, when Dirk had opened it, had proven to contain a cheerful-looking greetings card with a picture of a cartoon sunflower. Inside there was no name, no actual message, just – in neat, blue ballpoint pen – a short string of characters reading ‘I 8 BOK’.

‘Maybe it’s a code,’ Todd had suggested.

‘Or,’ Dirk had countered, ‘It’s a French person who communicates solely through early-2000s text speak and really wants us to know how much they dislike this “Bok” person.’

Quite unsurprisingly it turned out to be neither. When they’d taken a break to get coffee and donuts – Dirk had developed an obsession with trying all the varieties that the local Krispy Kreme had to offer – they’d spotted a black Mercedes with a personalised number plate reading, of course, I 8 BOK. Donuts sadly abandoned, they’d followed it to an office block and watched as the apparent owner, a nondescript man whom Todd estimated to be in his forties, had gone inside.

 

 

Dirk had been all for waltzing straight in after him but Todd, for once, had managed to dissuade him. The office was too big, too fancy. A company logo on the side of the building read ‘GenCo’; not a household name but one Todd knew from the branding of the industrial cleaning agents they’d used at the Perriman Grand. There was a good chance that there were chemicals on site and, if that was true, there would definitely also be stringent security procedures. Their chances of sneaking in unseen in the middle of a workday were low.

So they had waited and gone back at just after seven, when Todd estimated most of the workers would have gone home. Getting in had been too easy: the front doors had still been open but nobody was on reception; they’d just walked straight in. In retrospect, Todd realises that this should have maybe been a sign.

They were trying to figure out who the car belonged to but, with no actual name and only a brief glimpse of the guy, it wasn’t much to go on. Dirk had reasoned that nobody with a car that nice was likely to be in an entry-level job and so, seeing as movies and TV had led him to understand that the more important people worked on higher floors in places like this, they’d made their way up to the top floor. Which was where things had started to go… less well.

They’d been moving sort-of stealthily down a corridor, aiming to have a look around one of the bigger offices in the corner, when they’d heard voices. At least three or four voices, actually, and all sounding like they were just about to come around the corner and find them looking incredibly suspicious and with absolutely no alibi for exactly why they might be sneaking around a private corporation building at a quarter past seven on a Tuesday evening.

But perhaps, in hindsight, it would have been better to turn around and run back the way they had come rather than to dive through the nearest door without even stopping to check what was behind said door. Especially since the door turned out to lead to a remarkably small broom closet. But, given their track record, this actually isn’t too bad. No one’s pointing a gun at them, for a start. Since he met Dirk, Todd’s most important prerequisite to classify a day as ‘good’ is _no imminent death._ Taking that into account, and the custard doughnut he’d managed to shove whole into his mouth before Dirk had dragged him off in pursuit of the Mercedes, today was actually rating as okay-ish.

So, naturally, it had to get worse.

Since Todd developed pararibulitis he’d experienced a whole range of new and horrifying sensations, including a steak knife being stuck in his thigh and shaving half the skin off his face, but it turned out that attacks didn’t always include hideous amounts of pain. That had been a surprise. No one in the family had ever talked about getting attacks that were actually pleasurable but then, after the first one, he supposed he could understand why.

It had happened at night. He’d woken up hot, his skin prickly and sweaty, and had thought at first that he was coming down with the flu. He’d got up for a drink of water, which hadn’t helped at all, and by the time he’d got back into bed that prickly feeling had increased; grown insistent. One by one, every nerve ending in every part of his body lit up and _begged_ for sensation. The faintly rough drag of his cheap bedsheets over the exposed skin on his arms and legs made him gasp, every little hair standing on end, dick suddenly at attention. The thin fabric of his boxers had felt like torture. The world had narrowed, even his vision swimming; every last bit of his mind focussed on _touch, touch, touch._ He’d scrambled out of his sleep clothes and jerked off hard and fast, coming with a shout after only a couple of minutes.

It hadn’t occurred to him until afterwards that it had been an attack. It had been nothing like his usual attacks but the suddenness; the intensity; the feeling like he was going to die if he didn’t get hands on his dick _right fucking now_ could only be explained by pararibulitis. Even at his highest levels of horny teenage-hood, when he was fifteen and either jacking off or thinking about jacking off just about every waking hour, he’d felt nothing like that.

It had happened a couple of times since then. Far, far rarer than the more horrifying attacks, but no less debilitating. Once had been in the shower – he’d almost slipped and brained himself on the sink – and the other had been at the office, at which time he’d been extremely relieved to discover that the medication that Dirk insisted on providing as part of his job’s ‘healthcare benefits’ worked just as well on this kind of attack as it did on the others.

Which is very, very fortunate because right now, pressed against the wall of this really extremely small broom closet – there isn’t really the space for him to be anywhere else other than pressed up against the wall or pressed up against Dirk – is very much the worst possible time for his skin to start prickling in the specific way that heralds an attack.

There are still voices coming from out in the corridor and Dirk is still distracted by trying to see through the miniscule crack between the door and the frame, which gives Todd the opportunity to surreptitiously reach for his medication. He’d really rather not have to explain this to Dirk if he can help it. It’s not that Dirk wouldn’t want to help, it’s just that… it’s _Dirk_. And this is _embarrassing_. He knows that his and Dirk’s friendship is not exactly what you’d call normal but, even so, he’s not sure how well cheerfully announcing _“Hey buddy, just letting you know that I’m about thirty seconds away from getting a_ massive _boner so if you could just try and stand still until it goes away that would be great,”_ would go over. No, probably better to just take his pills and hope they start working before Dirk notices that anything’s up.

Pun not intended.

Only, the thing is, he can’t _find_ his medication. A while ago Dirk gave him a little pill caddy, about the size of a contact lens case and just big enough to fit five or six pills inside, so that he wouldn’t have to cart a big medication bottle around all the time. He actually really likes it, and not just because of the dumb little proud look Dirk gets every time he sees Todd slip it into his pocket, but it can be a bit tricky to find. Especially when, he realises with mounting panic, _he doesn’t have it._

‘It’s all extremely suspicious if you ask me,’ Dirk loud-whispers suddenly, making Todd jump. ‘I can’t _actually_ see anyone or hear what they’re saying but don’t they have homes to go to? I think…’

He turns around. Todd freezes mid pocket-patting, fully aware that he is currently looking just as suspicious as these after-hours presumed office workers.

Dirk frowns at him in confusion. ‘… what are you doing?’

Todd’s first instinct, still, is to pretend that everything’s fine. But, as his skin starts to glow hot and sensitive, even he realises that a lie about this would be caught out almost immediately. That doesn’t mean he won’t avoid explaining all the details for as long as possible, though. ‘Did you see if I took my medication with me today?’

Dirk’s frown intensifies. ‘Your medication? Why?’ Then, realisation dawning, his face turns from suspicious to concerned. ‘Are you having an attack?’

‘Sort of – yes, but…’

Dirk’s eyes are wide in the dim light, searching Todd intently. ‘What’s happening? Are you on fire? Drowning? No, I can see you breathing; hey Todd you’re breathing really fast, is all your skin falling off again?’

‘No, it’s…’ he searches for the words. They don’t come. It’s unclear whether that’s because of his rapidly increasing awareness of how sensitive every fucking part of his body is becoming, or whether it’s because of the way Dirk is looking at him. Having Dirk’s attention in this way can sometimes make it hard to think straight. ‘It’s different, okay? Did you see if I brought my pills or not?’ His eyes are blurring a little and Dirk’s right, he _is_ breathing really hard. He can feel every little place his clothes or the wall or the floor are touching him and it’s somewhere between wonderful and horrible. Fucking hell, he can feel Dirk’s breath on his skin where he’s standing so close, Dirk’s knee pressing against his leg because there really really isn’t room for two people in this closet and it’s _fucking torture._

‘I don’t know.’ Dirk is “whispering” so loudly that it’s amazing the people outside haven’t cottoned on to the fact that there are two people hiding in there and Todd somehow summons the presence of mind to raise a finger to his lips in a vague shushing gesture, but Dirk’s mind is evidently on other things. ‘You normally put them in your pocket… let me…’

He doesn’t finish his sentence and Todd wishes he had because then he might have had at least a moment’s warning before Dirk plunges his hands into the front pockets of Todd’s jeans and Todd has to bite his own fingers to stifle the half-yelp-half-moan that escapes absolutely and entirely unbidden. Dirk seems somehow to still be completely oblivious though because, instead of pulling his hands away like they’d been burned, which Todd believes would be the normal reaction if you innocently touch your friend and they make a noise as obscene as that, Dirk instead starts to rummage, fingers probing the seams of his pockets. And this is a really very bad time for Todd to suddenly start remembering all of those x-rated dreams he’s had over the last couple of months in which Dirk has featured very prominently.

It’s actually something which, until now, he has been putting a whole lot of effort into ignoring, even on those days when he wakes up sweaty and hard and has to jerk off before he can even think about getting up. He’s been telling himself that the dream-images swimming through his brain of Dirk’s hands, Dirk’s chest, Dirk’s cock are completely irrelevant and not at all related to anything else. Even though imagining Dirk’s lips closing around his dick has him coming harder than he ever remembers coming before.

He maybe can’t ignore it any more.

Todd leaves his fingers in his mouth, tries not to moan, and promises God that he’ll never wear anything with pockets ever again if He can just please make Dirk stop touching him before he gets any further because oh boy is Todd pitching a tent right now.

And, for a second, he wonders if he’s been misguided all these years and there actually is a God because Dirk withdraws his hands, frowns again, and tells Todd very seriously: ‘Your pills aren’t in there.’

‘No, they aren’t,’ Todd agrees, taking his bite-marked fingers out of his mouth and willing Dirk to at least try and stop being so very close to him because he’s losing trust in his ability to not kiss him.

His new-found faith is crushed, though, when Dirk gives him an appraising look and his eyes go wide in just the way they do anytime he’s had a spectacularly bad idea.

‘Sometimes you put things in your back pockets though, don’t you? I’ll check.’

This time there’s plenty of time for Todd to react. He could very definitely stop Dirk from leaning right in and reaching around to shove both hands deep into Todd’s back pockets. He could, but he doesn’t. And then Dirk’s hands are on his ass and Dirk’s body is pressed against his and Dirk’s lips are barely two inches away, and the last little bits of Todd’s mind that aren’t completely on fire from all the varied sensations deeply regret that decision.

 _I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s okay, I can do this_ Todd repeats to himself like a mantra inside his head but even he has to acknowledge the level of denial going on. Every single cell of him is grateful and aching and desperate for _more_ and doesn’t even care about _what_ he gets more of as long as Dirk’s the one doing it. It’s getting hard to tell what’s pararibulitis and what’s his brain spiting him by sending him his most private fantasies at the worst possible time but it’s all making it very nearly impossible to do normal human things like stay quiet or keep still and, right now, Todd very much wants to act like a normal human.

And then Dirk shifts his weight and his thigh presses oh-so perfectly against Todd’s dick and Todd entirely loses his grasp on his own self-control. It’s just a little pressure but it sets off fireworks in Todd’s brain and the moan that escapes this time is completely and utterly unmistakable.

Todd doesn’t really know what Dirk’s experience is but he’d guess his hard-on pressing into Dirk’s leg is pretty unmistakable too. The way Dirk has suddenly frozen and how he’s looking at him certainly seem to suggest that he’s noticed Todd is not acting entirely normally.

‘Erm, Todd,’ Dirk begins awkwardly, hands still in Todd’s back pockets. ‘Is that…? Are you…?’

Todd lets out a squeak, which really neither confirms nor denies anything, but Dirk seems to take it as an answer.

‘And is this a pararibulitis thing, or a me thing, or a being-in-a-cupboard thing?’

Todd chokes and, with difficulty, manages to regain the power of speech. ‘A pararibulitis thing. It’s just… it’s different. From normal. Imagine the horniest you’ve ever been and times it by a hundred.’

Dirk pauses to consider this. ‘And… that would be quite a lot?’

‘Uh huh.’ He plans to leave it there but Dirk’s face is still only inches away from his and Dirk’s hands are still on his body and his leg is still in exactly the worst and best place and if you can’t be honest at a time like this when can you? ‘It’s also, like, five percent a “you” thing.’

Dirk’s eyes narrow but he doesn’t move away. ‘Five percent?’

Todd shrugs and squirms a little, then abruptly stops when he realises how that might appear to Dirk. ‘Ten.’ Christ he would really like to keep squirming. ‘Okay, maybe twenty.’

‘How long for?’

Todd groans in frustration of many kinds. ‘This really isn’t the pressing issue here, but I guess since we went on that road trip to find the time machine.’

‘That’s quite a long time, Todd.’

‘I’m aware of that.’

A little crease appears between Dirk’s eyebrows, but not like he’s upset or freaking out, just like he’s consolidating. Todd can understand that; the information he’s just given Dirk is probably a lot to take in. That doesn’t stop Todd from wishing he would consolidate faster, though, because breathing is getting harder and every nerve is _screaming_ that something needs to touch his dick _right now_. He needs to get this situation under control within roughly the next one-point-five minutes, and he’s past the point of caring even if it means hastily jerking himself off into a corner while Dirk turns his back. He’d maybe later have to move to another country and change his name once his sense of shame returns, but considering what he’s just told Dirk he may well have to do that anyway.

Finally, after aeons – or roughly seven seconds – have passed, Dirk seems to reach the conclusion of whatever exactly he was thinking about.

‘Okay. So would it be utterly inappropriate and completely taking advantage of the situation if I was to kiss you?’

Todd’s brain short circuits.

‘Yes. I mean no. I mean-’

‘You’re sending a lot of mixed messages here, Todd.’

Todd takes a deep breath and attempts to, first, choose the words he actually wants to say and, second, put them in the correct order. It’s a lot more difficult than usual.

‘No, it wouldn’t be taking advantage. Yes, you can kiss me.’

‘Oh.’ Dirk’s voice is breathy in a way that makes Todd’s knees crumple just a tiny bit. ‘Good.’

And then Dirk’s lips are on his and it’s good, oh Christ it’s so good that Todd thinks his head might explode. It’s potentially not the most finessed kiss he’s ever had but what Dirk lacks in expertise he more than makes up for in sheer enthusiasm.

Dirk’s hands slide out of Todd’s pockets, one gripping him by the hip and the other finding its way up to nestle in his hair. His fingertips send prickles of electricity along Todd’s scalp, making him shudder and pull Dirk closer, closer, as if being pressed together from mouth to shin isn’t nearly enough. It isn’t. He needs _more_.

Dirk seems to feel the same because his fingers stop gently stroking through Todd’s hair and suddenly grasp, tugging his hair and making Todd so, so glad that he hasn’t bothered having it cut in far too long. He licks into Dirk’s mouth, silently trying to tell him _yes, more, please,_ and is rewarded with another tug, hard enough this time to make his breath hitch.

The clearest sign, though, that they are now definitely on the same page is the hard bulge Todd can feel pressing into his leg. He tugs at Dirk’s belt loops, shifting the angle of his hips, and as soon as Dirk complies he thrusts against him, grinding his cock against Dirk’s through layers of cotton and denim and it feels _fucking fantastic._ Dirk gasps a surprised little ‘Oh!’ against Todd’s mouth, all breathy and quiet, and Todd almost comes right then and there.

Then Dirk is pulling away and, for a moment, Todd’s horrified to think he’s been reading this wrong, but then Dirk asks ‘Can I touch you?’ and Todd feels like all his Christmases have come at once.

He manages to choke out a half-stunned ‘Yes!’ and suddenly Dirk’s fingers are scrabbling at the button on his jeans and _this is really happening_ and Todd kind of wonders if it would be rude to pass out just for a moment.

The button finally pops open and Dirk’s hand slides inside, under his boxers, to wrap slender fingers around his dick. And Todd can’t help it; he’s fantasised about this so many times – well maybe not this _exact_ situation but something close – and it feels so much better than his fever dreams could ever conceive that he lets out a half-shout of pleasure.

Instantly, the touch he so desperately needs is gone and Dirk is looking at him askance. ‘Todd, shh! People will _hear_. We’re in a _cupboard_ , Todd.’

Todd wants to tell Dirk that he’s fully aware of that; that there’s a broom poking him in the side that’s making it impossible to forget where they are; but he also sort of wants to cry because Dirk isn’t touching him anymore and the only word he can form is a whispered, begging _‘Please.’_

Dirk pulls a face. ‘Only if you promise to keep quiet.’

This is torture. This is actual fucking torture. ‘I promise.’

‘I mean it Todd,’ Dirk whispers loudly, ‘If they catch us we’ll never find out what’s going on here and what it has to do with sunflowers! Also, considering what we’re currently doing, they’ll almost definitely call the police. Unless the police are involved. Todd, do you think the police could be a part of it? But how would that connect to the cartoon sunflower?’

This is it, Todd thinks. This is how he dies. Trapped in a closet with a raging hard-on.

_‘Dirk’._

‘Oh. Right.’ Dirk’s face is momentarily contrite. ‘Sorry.’

He tugs at Todd’s jeans, working them halfway down his hips to get better access, then Dirk’s hand is once again wrapped around Todd’s dick and, for just a second, Todd is pretty sure he’s not going to be able to keep his promise and stay quiet. He bites his lip and, when that doesn’t work anymore, pulls Dirk forward roughly to kiss him in a clashing of lips that will muffle any noises he can’t keep inside.

Dirk’s rhythm is erratic and it feels so, so good but it’s not enough. ‘Please,’ he begs, voice as quiet as he can keep it while still conveying how urgent this matter is, ‘Need more.’

Dirk’s been kissing a line of rushed kisses up the side of his jaw but he stops to murmur in his ear. ‘Tell me.’

‘Want you inside me.’

It’s out before Todd’s even stopped to think: about the practicalities, about how that would make their chances of discovery even higher, about whether Dirk would even be up for that. But it’s out there and he can’t take it back. And, judging by noise that Dirk makes, Dirk is _definitely_ up for that. But that doesn’t solve the other two problems.

‘Wait, no,’ he hears himself saying from what seems to be very far away and something inside him wants to cry with disappointment. Dirk looks like he feels much the same way. ‘Oh god, believe me I want to, _fuck_ , Dirk, I want to so much but we don’t have the right… stuff.’

Dirk seems genuinely confused. ‘What “stuff”?’

‘Condoms.’ Dirk’s hand has slowed down but he’s still making it very hard to Todd to concentrate on things like “talking” and “safe sex”. ‘Lube. Trust me when I tell you those things are very necessary.’

‘Oh.’ Dirk is clearly crestfallen but then something seems to click and his face erupts into a delirious grin. ‘ _Oh!_ He digs in his pocket and pulls out three foil squares. ‘Amanda gave me these. Will they do?’

It takes Todd a minute to get his head around the facts that a) Dirk - _Dirk_ \- is holding a pair of condoms and what appears to be a sachet of anal lubricant like it’s _totally normal_ to just have those in your pocket, and that b) Amanda gave them to him.

‘… what? Amanda… why?’

Dirk shrugs with his whole body. ‘I have absolutely no idea! She didn’t explain herself; she just said that one day they would be _very important_ – then she winked which didn’t make sense at all – so I thought that if they’re so important I’d better keep them on me at all times until - _oh_ , Todd, do you think Amanda had some kind of precognition that this would happen?’

Todd decides in that moment that Amanda is an evil genius, an overly-perceptive pain in the ass, and that he’s going to have to buy her something very, very nice the next time she stops by. He’s going to say some of this in answer to Dirk’s question but he’s interrupted by an insistent twitch from his dick.

‘Shit, Dirk,’ he whines, ‘can we talk about this later?’

Dirk has a look that says he won’t let this go – and Todd isn’t looking forward to explaining how he knows that Amanda isn’t psychic, especially the part where he’ll have to acknowledge her own experience of pararibulitis because he really doesn’t want to think about his own sister in a situation even remotely similar to this one – but obligingly stops talking. Todd takes the opportunity to pull Dirk into another kiss and uses one hand to fumble blindly with the Dirk’s fly while the other shoves his own pants and underwear down to his knees. It’s not in the slightest bit graceful or romantic but, god, he doesn’t care right now.

When he finally touches Dirk the noise that comes out of his mouth is pornographic. His cock is hot and hard and wet with precum and Todd absolutely has his full attention now.

Dirk is surprisingly dextrous at opening the condom packet and slipping it on, and when Todd’s shaking fingers make it impossible for him to follow suit Dirk takes over and does it for him. Todd can’t think straight, can’t focus on anything but need, and Dirk must realise this because he quietly takes charge.

‘Tell me how.’ Dirk’s voice is soft but assertive. Todd almost whines.

‘Fingers first,’ he stutters, ‘then…’

Apparently Dirk can infer what happens next. ‘Okay.’

He softly tugs at Todd’s hips and Todd obediently turns to face the wall, hands spread on the cool plaster. Then Dirk’s hands leave him and he hears the faint crinkling of a lube sachet being opened before one warm, steadying hand is back on his side, drifting up under his t-shirt. Slick fingers slide into the cleft of his ass.

‘Ready?’ Dirk murmurs by his left ear and Todd, no longer capable of speech, nods fervently.

Confirmation achieved, Dirk presses in with one finger and Todd has to choke back a cry, bucking backwards as if electrocuted, wanting _everything._ Dirk clucks at him and the hand on his side grips harder, holding him still as Dirk methodically finger-fucks him open, adding a second finger and then a third as Todd shakes and begs and curses under his breath.

Then without warning the fingers are gone and Todd whimpers over the sudden emptiness, desperate to be filled again. Dirk doesn’t keep him waiting. There’s a shaky intake of breath from behind him and then he feel’s Dirk’s cock push slowly, smoothly into him, deep and hot and perfect. Once seated, Dirk pauses for a moment for both of them to adjust to the heat and the stretch, and then he starts to thrust. He goes slowly, experimentally at first, slow-fucking in and out until Todd is almost sobbing with the too-much-not-enough of it all. Normally Todd would love the pull and tease, would want to spend all night doing just this, especially as Dirk’s apparently so very fucking talented at it, but this isn’t normally.

He bucks back against Dirk, trying to speed up his rhythm, and Dirk must get the message because suddenly his fingertips are digging almost painfully into Todd’s hipbones and the concepts of _slow_ and _gentle_ are forgotten. Dirk’s hips jerk forward in a sudden, sharp thrust that takes Todd by surprise even though it’s what he’s been begging for, and it’s all he can do not to shout out loud. Behind him Dirk has started a whispered litany of curses with the occasional whined ‘Fuck, _Todd_ ’ thrown in for good measure, and every syllable sends a spark of electricity straight to Todd’s dick.

The world dwindles until Todd is barely aware of anything but sensation. The solid floor, the cold plaster under his splayed hands, _Dirk_. The hot drag of Dirk’s cock on his insides is so good and he’s so goddamn close to coming; his dick twitches with every thrust, desperate for friction. His hands are being kept busy holding him up as Dirk ploughs into him over and over again, but he leans forward and takes his weight on one forearm pressed against the wall, freeing the other hand to wrap around his dick. He’s never been so hard in his whole damn life.

But the change in angle has another effect too. He’s only given himself a couple of rough pumps, the feeling of his hand sliding over the slick condom and his own hot skin enough to have heat already pooling in his groin, and when Dirk’s next thrust hits a spot inside him that has him seeing stars he can’t help the strangled cry that escapes.

He expects another rebuke but instead Dirk moans like that’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard. He speeds up his rhythm, fucking Todd for all he’s worth, and Todd matches pace with his hand, mewling uncontrollably every time Dirk hits that same spot. His balls are pulled up tight and he’s so, so nearly there that it almost hurts; every atom of him burning and desperate for release.

‘Oh Christ, Todd,’ Dirk moans, ‘Come for me.’ And it’s only three words but it sends Todd falling, falling over the edge, cock throbbing in his hand as he climaxes.

As he rides out the aftershocks he’s dimly aware that Dirk’s swearing has reached a higher pitch and it only takes two or three more thrusts before he’s coming too, pulling Todd close and letting his head sag onto Todd’s shoulder as his orgasm rips through him.

They stay like that for a few moments; Todd leaning against the wall and Dirk leaning against Todd, both of them panting and sweaty and blissed out. Dirks arms creep around Todd’s waist to hold him for just a moment, and then he’s pulling away and Todd has to try and remember how to use his legs.

He awkwardly ties the condom, tugs his jeans back up and turns around in time to see Dirk doing the same. Even in the dim light he can see the post-sex flush still staining Dirk’s cheeks and _Jesus fucking Christ_ he looks stunning. His hair is messy and his shirt’s all untucked and Todd wants nothing more than to kiss him. So he does.

‘Sorry,’ is the first thing Dirk tells him when they come up for air. ‘That wasn’t really how I imagined this happening.’

‘Me neither,’ Todd grins. ‘And, um, thanks, I guess?’ It seems completely ridiculous to be thanking Dirk for sex but that was a hell of a lot better than taking a few pills and a cold shower. ‘That was… amazing. You’re amazing.’

It’s hard to tell but he’s pretty sure Dirk’s cheeks get a little pinker at the compliment. ‘Yes, well Todd, it could all have been avoided if you’d just remembered to bring your medication.’ Then something in his face softens and he glances down, almost shy. ‘Not that I didn’t… I mean… I’d like to do it again. If you want to. Maybe when it isn’t a medical emergency.’

Todd has to force down laughter. ‘Believe me I’d like to. Only,’ he glances around them, ‘Perhaps not in a closet next time?’

‘Agreed. Speaking of which, I’m pretty sure we weren’t particularly discreet so we might want to consider leaving fairly soon. Possibly at a fairly quick pace.’

‘But what about the case?’

Dirk raises one eyebrow. ‘Maybe this is _part_ of the case. But I can definitely hear someone shouting somewhere so I think we’ll have to find out later.’

Todd really can’t see how this could possibly have anything to do with a mysterious sunflower card and an admittedly odd personalised license plate but, then, he’s not the detective here. And he’ll probably turn out to be wrong, because he usually is, but he can’t help but wonder – as they run from an irate security guard and Dirk grabs his hand to pull him through the building’s front doors, not letting go until they’re safely back at the car – if maybe the universe is, for once, trying to pay him and Dirk back just a little of what they’re owed.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr [here](http://squishylittlebear.tumblr.com/). I'm friendly, come and say hi!


End file.
